


43 Minutes

by aislingeach_21



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Charmie, Desperation Play, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, RPF, Safe Sane and Consensual, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 05:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingeach_21/pseuds/aislingeach_21
Summary: 43 minutes - the time between Timmy saying he's ringing Armie with a 'funny story' and Armie replying, telling him to get back to NY so they can 'hang'.“So funny story – my dick’s having a really hard time and I need you to talk it down.”43 minutes is a decent length of time. Here goes.For the CMBYN Heart Eyes Challenge





	43 Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little late with posting - fell asleep upon completion and have been lazy ever since (sue me).  
> It's a bit rough around the edges, and I'm not so keen on the amount of dialogue but phone sex so...*shrugs*.  
> Mistakes are mine - apologies if I've missed any!

Armie’s barely finished reading Timmy’s reply when his phone starts ringing. He picks up and is cut off before he can say ‘hello’.

“So funny story – my dick’s having a really hard time and I need you to talk it down.”

Ok, so they’re both foregoing the pleasantries, good to know.

“How is that funny?” Armie settles on the couch.

“It’s funny because you’re the only one who can help. You’ve got the magic touch.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s awful.” 

“Is it though? I’m all alone in my apartment, horny as fuck and you’re the person I call.” Timmy's voice is low and throaty. Armie knows that tone.

“Well when you put it that way...” He smirks, scratching at his stubble. “So, what are you wearing?” 

“Jesus, now that’s awful.” Timmy huffs.

Armie likes this easy banter they have with each other. It’s always been there, ever since Crema, ever since their eyes locked and his breath caught in his throat. Ever since this, whatever this is, started. He can’t see things changing. He doesn’t want things to change.

Well. That might be a lie. But the only way he’d want things to change would be so he could selfishly have more of Timmy than he already does. It's selfish, because when Tim gives himself he gives himself wholly and completely. With little resistance or fuss. It’s no different to how he glides through life. Seemingly living on a higher plane, but still devastatingly human in his awkwardness, his eagerness for life. If Armie were feeling particularly cheesy he’d say Tim lives with a certain ‘joie de vivre’, but that's not him.

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Please, I’m not that desperate.”

Armie doesn't believe him for a second. The moment things take a sexual turn, Timmy’s instantly hungry, eager for attention, his need to fulfil his lust-driven urges his highest and only priority. To put it lightly, he turns into a wanton hussy. It’s Armie favourite version of Timmy, and he likes to tease the younger man to no end about it.

“Says the guy who’s calling for transatlantic bedtime phone sex.”

“When it comes to putting me to bed you’re an expert – why would I go to anyone else?”

“You could try, but I think you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone willing to put up with how demanding you can be when you’re in need of a good fuck. Not to mention the fact that I’ve ruined your ass for anyone else – your words, not mine,” Armie replies smugly.

Timmy whines, “That’s not fair. You can’t just say stuff like that when there’s an entire ocean between us.”

“Oh, but I can. Now tell me, what are you wearing?”

“One of your old t-shirts and a pair of your underwear.”

Damn. Timmy knows what that does to him. Some primal part of his brain just reacts instinctually whenever the smaller man dons his clothes. It makes him want to ravage, and devour, and take him apart. Anytime Tim’s up for a bit of rough he peruses Armie’s wardrobe and plays dress up.

“Firstly, that’s fucking hot and you know it. Secondly, I had wondered where a bunch of my underwear had gone and boy you are in for a spanking the moment we’re in the same country – you have been warned.”

“I was kinda counting on that,” Timmy sighs dreamily.

“You little shit. And you have the gall to ring up asking for me to get you off?”

“Pretty please? I’m so hard, just hearing your voice has me dripping – your underwear is soaked right through.”

Armie swallows audibly. That fucker. 

“Hands off your dick ok? You only touch when I say so.”

“But Armie-”

“Uh-uh. If you want me to do this for you then we’re doing it my way.”

 

Ten minutes later and Timmy’s practically a sobbing mess. He’s panting and making these high-pitched whining grunts that turn Armie on to no end. Armie’s been put on speaker phone – as per his own request – so that Timmy’s hands could do his bidding.

Which explains why Timmy’s lips are swollen, nipples peaked, and his thighs covered in self-inflicted pinch marks. He’s still clothed and Armie has yet to give him permission to touch where he most desires, the denial is driving him crazy.

On the other end of the call Armie can only imagine how his young lover looks. A video call was tempting but his ego had won out, thinking how he’d laud his ability to bring Timmy to orgasm with little more than his voice in the days, weeks, months to come.

“You alright baby?”

“Please Armie, I wanna touch.”

“I know, but if you’re really good and hold on just a bit longer it’ll be worth it, I promise,” he placates.

Armie can hear Timmy attempt to settle his shuddering breath.

“I’ll be good, but this better be the best fucking orgasm of my life.”

He laughs to himself, even when begging for release Timmy still can’t hold his sharp tongue. He wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Be realistic – you come the hardest on my dick, and I know you didn’t take any of your toys with you so accept what you’re given and be grateful. I’m late for a cast dinner because your dick needs attention.”

“Says the guy who’s drawing this whole thing out. Well if I’m such an inconvenience then just go to dinner. If you send me The Hammer, I’ll take care of myself. You’ll be able to spend day and night with your castmates without me bothering you,” Timmy retorts testily.

The Hammer is an almost life-sized replica of Armie’s cock. Almost life-sized because Timmy had requested it be made slightly smaller so that no matter how often he made use of it he could still savour the burn of Armie entering him for real. It was hardly in Armie’s interests to protest this modification.

Although, he had initially protested Timmy’s nickname for his new favourite toy. It was so cliché and an awful pun on his name, but he soon came around when Timmy pointed out how easy it was to fit into regular conversations, out in public or in front of the kids – everyone was none the wiser. There was also the fact that after their first few plays with it, it thrilled him to no end knowing that a version of his dick was causing the younger man to fall apart, yet nothing quite satisfied him the way the real thing could.

“Stop being so stroppy. Jesus you must be in real need of a good fuck if you’re this sour.”

“I bet my mood would improve if a certain bastard would let me touch my dick.”

“If I was there with you I’d gag you with my cock. Coz someone as mouthy as you surely doesn’t deserve any special treatment.”

Tim murmurs incoherently, his bed creaking as he shifts uneasily.

“Yea that’s what I thought.”

Realistically, threatening to shove his dick down Timmy’s throat isn’t that much of a threat. If anything, the boy thrives on that sort of attention. He loves the dirty, messy debauchery, loves showing off what he can do with his very talented mouth, loves the way Armie pulls on his hair, using him, taking him, forcing him right down to the root. Come covered, saliva drenched, and tear stained, he never fails to smile, self-satisfied, preening with a low, raw hum in his throat.

“You wanna come baby?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, you can touch yourself.”

He can hear a hesitation before the sudden rustling of fabric, as if Tim wasn’t really expecting to be allowed so soon. “Thank you, tha-”

“One stroke. Then just hold it.”

The movement stops. “What? But Armie, that’s not fair.”

“Well maybe if you were a bit better behaved hmm?”

Silence.

“One stroke. Go.”

Timmy whines, breath hitching as he finally wraps a hand around himself, stroking just the once.

“How was that?”

“Not enough,” he sulks.

“And what do you say?”

Armie’s really pushing it here. It’s been a while since they’ve managed to have any real time together and while they have a natural cat-and-mouse-like quality to their relationship, Armie isn’t entirely sure how well Tim’s coping away from home, away from him.

The response is a quiet and begrudging, “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, my good boy.”

Timmy sighs. Nothing like a bit of praise to perk up his mood.

“Tell me how your cock feels.”

“I’m so hard Armie. And I feel warm. And I’m all,” he gasps, “I’m all wet, and maybe I’m throbbing? But maybe that’s just my heart beating?”

“Go on.”

“I don’t know! Why can’t you be here? I just want you, you always take good care of me.”

Armie hadn’t realised Timmy was this far gone, he’s getting so worked up. And as much as Armie is enjoying prolonging the inevitable, he really did need to get to dinner and Tim probably did deserve an orgasm.

“I know, it’s ok baby. I’m right here, and you’re being so good,” he soothes.

“Yea?”

“Of course. Now rub your thumb over your slit. Back and forth, just lightly.”

Timmy exhales in relief.

“That’s it. Spread your precome around the head, careful not to come ok?”

“Mmhmm.”

Armie’s own dick is straining for attention, but he’s determined to remain focussed on Timmy and his needs. He can take care of himself later if he has to. Or he can wait until they next see each other and give Timmy what he’s truly owed. Things to consider – later.

“Tell me.”

“Feels nice. Want more though. Please?”

“Don’t be greedy. You’re doing so well. Pinch your nipples with your other hand.”

Timmy cries out. Armie remembers being surprised to discover how sensitive they are, and he hasn’t let up ever since. Forever taking those petite nubs and kissing, licking, biting, sucking them until they’re pink and swollen, Timmy unsure of whether to push into or away from his affections.

“Ok, slow strokes now baby. Ten of them. Count them correctly for me and I’ll let you come.”

There’s a rush of breath and then, “One.”

“If I was with you, you wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself at all. You’d come with nothing but my touch. And if you tried to disobey I’d tie your hands to the headboard.”

They’ve done that before – Armie knows how Timmy gets when he can’t touch. Suffice it to say, once loose, Timmy is a force to be reckoned with. 

“Two,” Timmy whines.

“I bet you look so pretty right now. You always look gorgeous, but I like you best when you’re crying and begging on my cock. I love getting you all worked up and frustrated.”

“Th-three.”

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises. “Are you imagining it’s my hand around your dick? You know I’d look after you, take you to pieces then put you back together again.”

“Mmph. Four.”

“Suck the come from your cock and feed it to you after, when you’re lying there in a post-orgasmic haze.”

It’s filthy, and Armie revels in it – taking such a seemingly innocent boy and doing all he can to tarnish his angelic image. He finds enormous pleasure in carrying out the most depraved of acts with this beacon of pure light – less pure now that Armie’s got involved. Timmy never complains. Much.

“Five.” His voice breathy and lust-filled. 

“Halfway, does that feel nice baby? Wish I could taste you, I’d eat out that cute ass of yours until your hole’s all loose and ready for me – I know how much you like that.”

“Siiix.”

“I’m always amazed at how tight you are, how you squeeze around me when you’re overwhelmed and can’t control yourself.”

“Se-ven.”

“When we’re next together I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days. I’ll leave you wide open, dripping with my come.”

Armie knows from experience that Timmy’s guilty pleasure is the feeling of his gaping, pink hole clenching around thin air, fucked almost beyond repair. His not so guilty pleasure is being covered and filled with Armie’s come. If the condoms come out, or if he’s told to spit and not swallow, Tim knows he’s being punished. Armie doesn’t quite get the obsession, but he’s pretty sure if Timmy could bathe in the stuff he would.

“Nngh, eight.”

“And just when you think we’re done I’ll fuck you once more. Fill you to the brim with my seed. If you’re really good I might even buy you a plug, how does that sound?”

“Nine, oh god.”

“Well done Timmy, just one more and you get to come. You know, on second thought I might just force you to sleep stuffed full of my cock. And in the morning, I’ll fuck you awake with only my leftover come for lube.”

“Ah, ten!”

“Come on baby.”

Timmy’s breath is fast and laboured, he whimpers, “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Armie’s voice is certain and grounded, a tinge of pride at his boy’s forlorn tone due his self-perceived inability to please, “come for me.”

And just like that Timmy’s coming. His cries loud and euphoric at the rush of endorphins resulting from such a well-earned and well-needed orgasm. Armie thinks he hears his name somewhere in his utterances. Timmy babbles incoherently as the shockwaves settle and his mind makes the slow journey back to this dimension.

“You alright Timmy?”

“Aaaarrrmmmiiieeee.” His name elongated languorously, Timmy’s voice lax, blissed out.

He chuckles, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Ugh, that was so good.”

“Well good boys are rewarded for good behaviour.” Armie points out.

“Jesus Armie, too soon. I may be 22 but give me a break. I literally just came.”

“One day we’re gonna see how many times you can come in a 24-hour period. You up for that?”

Timmy groans, “You’re gonna kill me.”

“There are worse ways to die.” He smirks. “And that wasn’t a ‘no’.”

“True, true.”

Armie clears his throat. “Anyway, you ok if I head for dinner now?”

“Huh? But, what about you? Aren’t you gonna let me return the favour?”

“It’s ok baby,” he reassures, “I’m a big boy, I can wait. Just make sure your ass is ready for the pounding that’s due.”

“Are you trying to get me hard again?” Timmy huffs.

“No, but if that happens it’s your problem, not mine.”

“Pfft.”

“I’ve gotta go to dinner. And you need to go to sleep. I’d tell you to behave yourself, but how much trouble can you get into in your sleep?”

“Ummm…”

Armie should’ve known better than to ask such a question. If there was trouble to be had, that boy was always in the midst of it.

“Don’t answer that. Sleep tight, you were so good for me tonight. Look forward to seeing your ass in person.”

“What about the rest of me?”

“Nah, I only love you for your ass. And maybe your mouth. Make that your body. I’m shallow in that way, but I’m deep when it counts.” Armie says smugly.

“Armie!”

“I was talking about our late-night intellectual conversations – jeez!”

“Like tonight’s one?”

“Exactly.”

The tone shifts, takes on a softer air. 

“Will you call me in the morning?”

“I’ll call you when I wake up, yes.”

Timmy hums, pleased.

“Oh, that reminds me. One last thing – you’re not to take off my underwear until I say so.”

“But they’re disgusting and sticky.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not gonna ring until it’s like, lunch time here.”

The petulant tone of Timmy’s voice has Armie smirking.

“I know.”

“And I have an early morning meeting.”

“I know.”

A beat.

“Damnit Armie.”

“You love me.”

“Don’t know why.”

“Because I help fulfil your deepest and darkest desires.”

“Because the fucking universe thought it’d be hilarious to stick me with this Adonis of a guy with a huge cock who’s only purpose is to drive me crazy.”

Armie laughs quietly. For all his complaining he knows Timmy’s just saying he misses him.

“You won’t be complaining like this when you get here in three months – or sooner?”

“I‘ll see what I can do. But also, I’d complain less if your dick was up my ass more often and I got to come on a more regular basis. Just saying.”

“Just saying, huh? Well rest assured, your ass is mine the moment you touch down.”

“Can we at least make it back to one of our places first this time?”

“So demanding,” Armie teases.

“I don’t wanna be papped with you balls deep – is that too much to ask?”

As expected, the nature of their work lends itself well to hot reunion sex following bouts of what is effectively chastity – and that one time they played with a cock cage, actual chastity. But Armie can see his point, besides, if they’re back at one of theirs the sex can just continue until they wear themselves out. And that is something Armie can get behind.

“No, of course not…your majesty.”

“Oh fuck off!”

“But if it’s a sacrifice I must make in service to you my liege, then it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“I’ll sacrifice your dick if you don’t shut up.”

Timmy’s all bark and no bite. Well, mostly no bite. 

“As if. You love my dick. Can’t get enough of it. Salivate at the sight of it.”

“Don’t start something you have no intention of finishing – I thought you had a dinner to get to.”

“Right. Yes.”

Timmy yawns. “Enjoy your dinner, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Night baby, sleep well.”

“I’d sleep better if you were here.”

“I know.” He pauses. “Lemme know when you can get time off and I’ll round up the welcoming committee.”

“That better be just you and your dick.”

“Of course.”

“Love you.”

“Love you.”

Armie waits until he hears the soft whispery puffs of air that indicate the younger man’s journey to the land of nod before he disconnects the call.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Come find me on Tumblr - I'm [aislingeach-21](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aislingeach-21) X


End file.
